The Moment I Knew
by snowflakeswift
Summary: When Taylor Swift's boyfriend does not arrive at her birthday party... Includes parodies and references to Swift songs such as Red, Teardrops on My Guitar, etc. Portrayal of characters and emotions are purely imagined. The Moment I Knew is portrayed as a prequel to 22.


I gave a birthday party that year. It's unusual for me to throw parties on my birthday, since I'm the kind of girl who is content to celebrate with a few of my closest friends and my cat Meredith, who is, by the way, the best cat in the whole wide world. My next album is going to feature a song about how cuddly she is and how she always helps me with my boy problems. It's going to be called "Teardrops On My Cat". Did I just leak something? Wait, what?

That year I decided that my birthday would not be complete without him, and the only way I could get him to be present was to throw a big party with all my friends.

Invitations were written on paper edged with a passionate-as-sin red and dispatched to all my friends. I spent days trying to figure out which kind of cake to bake, finally deciding on a giant white cake edged with blue and red frosting. I had a good time frosting it, imagining how he would laugh and tell me "That's great, Taylor". I pawed through my wardrobe, examining each of my hundreds of dresses twice before finally deciding on a sparkly little black dress and a cat-ear hair band.

And at last, all is ready.

My friends arrive one by one, smiling, hugging me and handing me a wrapped gift, then moving into the living room and chatting among themselves. I wait by the door, greeting the guests, and looking for you.

Half an hour passes. He doesn't come. I hope desperately that he's among the few late arrivals. I want him to be here, because my birthday will not be my birthday without him. I want him to be here, to make me feel like a million little shining stars have aligned. I want you to be here, because then I will be so happy.

I let myself idle by the window in the hallway. Christmas lights flash in the snowy streets, glancing off the snow. I smell cake and happiness and birthday and Christmas. Meredith rubs herself against my leg. Did I mention that she is the best cat in the whole wide world? My mind wanders. He will be here soon. The doorbell will ring, and I'll hold my breath and open the door, and he'll be there, smiling as wide as he can, his shining eyes putting Georgia stars to shame as he hugs me and whispers in my ear, "Happy birthday, Taylor."

I glance at my watch. My guests will be missing me. My heart sinks. I desperately comb through my repertoire of frothy smiles, settling on one that will hide my emotions and make me seem bright and bubbly. I assume a springing walk and go into the living room.

Everyone cheers. "Taylor! Happy birthday!" I find myself piled in a group hug, as flutes of champagne and half-eaten cookies are tossed aside. Slowly, I am released. I stand there, my smile frozen on my face, my insides tossing and turning. Friends come up and congratulate me.

"You're twenty-one, Taylor," says one. "This is the year you're gonna be realizing what choices you made were wrong. But it's also going to be the best year of your"—hug—"whole"—hug—"LIFE!"

I force the smile wider as she searches my face. "Thanks!" I say brightly. She looks at me and I try to keep my smile steady. She shakes her head and asks me if I'm okay.

No, I'm not okay. I want him. And if the first day of the best year of my life is going to be like this…

"Course I'm okay!" I say brightly. "This is the first day of the best year of my whole life, remember?"

"All right, if you say so," she says, and moves away. I stay where I am, playing with a handful of sparkly black fabric. I go back through my memory. He should be here, he said he'd come…

Suddenly I feel like my head has been immersed in a tank of icy liquid. Everything freezes over and I feel like time has slowed to a crawl. I am aware of how ridiculous I must look, my hopes dashed to pieces as I stand frozen in the middle of my room, wearing a sparkly festive dress that contrasts directly with how I feel. My lips are dry and I am paralysed. My lipstick is in my pocket. My hands tremble as they reach for it.

Why is everyone laughing? How can they laugh when I feel like this? I sit down as if in a dream. If he were here I'd be laughing, talking like everyone else. I search the room with my eyes, but in vain. The party is suddenly pointless. I feel like I've been hit with a cold, heavy, sudden knowledge. I know. I know.

I endure one icy hour, but it seems like days. I can't bear it anymore. I just want to be alone. I find another polite smile and wave it at my guests. "I'm going to the bathroom. Be right back."

Half of the people rise from their seats, a look of concern on their faces.

"Are you okay, Taylor?" asks one.

"Yeah. Yes, I am. I just…" I leave. I realize that there is a veritable troop following me. I enter the bathroom and close the door, breathing heavily as the guests outside swirl and heave like an anxious storm cloud. I clutch my sides. I'm being silly, I know. I'm acting like someone has just died.

I lean on the wall. Someone _has _just died. At least to me. The feeling I get when I think of him, like there's a mouthful of chocolate melting on the tip of my tongue, has been replaced with something else.

"Taylor! Are you all right?" The thunderclap has burst. I have stayed in here for too long.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," I say hurriedly. I run my fingers through my hair. My face greets me in the mirror. I look forsaken and forlorn. I slump.

"He said he'd be here…" I whisper, trying to hold the churning in. "He said he'd be here."

I compose myself, unlock the door and step outside. I smile brightly at the storm cloud. "See? I'm fine. Messed up makeup. That's all."

Slowly, the tornado parts, slows to a breeze, and breaks into each individual friend. The tornado swirling inside me has not slowed one jot. It's tugging at my smile. I tug my smile back. "There, let's return to the party."

"What were you doing that took you so long in there?" teases somebody. I feel my cheeks glow.

"Yeah, Taylor, have you had one of your sudden inspirations?" says someone else jokingly.

"Ooh!" another person cries. "I bet it was about Jake!"

"Actually, no," I say. "I just…"

"How's Jake these days?" says someone.

The icy sledgehammer is pounding at my heart again. I know how he is these days. He is a heartbreaker and he's about to get dumped. Badly. I feel anger being added to the cyclone in my heart, whirling and whirling along with everything else.

"Taylor?" I realize my friends have fallen silent.

"No no, I'm fine, I really am!" I protest, laughing as best as I can.

I break down.

Another thunderclap has stricken. Sob after sob wracks my body as the hurricane does its best to escape. I'm crying with anger. He couldn't have done this, not on the first day of my twenty-first year. Meredith comes to me, settling herself on my knee and purring softly. I sink my hands into her fur. I feel arms around me, but not his arms. The anger leaves me. I become quieter. I try to piece together the feelings that have been scattered by the hurricane. What do I do? What do I do?

"He should've been here," I sob helplessly into whoever is holding me. "I would've been so happy."

One of my own songs plays from the speakers in the lounge. "_You told me you loved me…so why did you go away?" _I sound so plaintive. It sends me into fresh bouts of stormy weeping.

It takes me a long time to calm down. I sob myself dry and hiccup for a long time afterwards. Someone keeps me supplied with handkerchiefs. I feel myself wrapped in a blanket of pity. I look up.

"I'm fine now," I say, and realize how pitiful I must look, with red, puffy eyes and tears still wet on my cheeks. "Thanks for letting me cry."

"We'll go home if you want, Taylor," someone says. "You can have some alone time. Maybe phone…" She checks herself abruptly. "Cuddle Meredith, write a song. You'll feel better."

"No, I want you all!" I say. "Let's finish the party. I'll be okay." I don't want to be left alone. I don't want to wander through my rooms and find cobwebs and memories everywhere. I don't want to be alone because then I will be visited by phantoms of lost love.

"Okay. Let's have the cake!" cries one of my friends. A cheer swells slowly among the rest.

I manage a halfhearted smile.

"That's the spirit, Taylor!"

"I need to fix my makeup," I say, coughing to release the choked sound in my throat. I recede into the bathroom again, where I reapply most of my makeup and wash the tearstains from my face. Now that most of the storm has been released, I feel I can face the rest of my life. I try not to think of him. I gaze into my own eyes in the mirror.

"You can do this, Taylor," I whisper. I push open the door bravely. I make it to the kitchen. I almost cry again when all the happiness and imagination baked into that cake greets me in one cinnamon-y whiff. "You can do this."

I pull out twenty-one candles from a drawer, arrange them in a smiley face, and light them. My birthday cake is smiling at me. How ironic. I almost slam the thing onto a tray and bring it to the living room, where my friends have dimmed the lights.

"Happy birthday to you," they sing in a soft chorus. "Happy birthday to you."

I put the cake down on a table.

"Happy birthday to Taylor…"

I almost lose it again. How much better that song would sound if he were here. Tears well in my eyes.

"Happy birthday to you!" Someone flips the light switch. Someone else throws a starburst of confetti over me. My hair is bristling with blue and pink curly paper strips.

I feel a little bit better as everyone hugs me. I smile.

"Thank you," I say lamely.

I know that he is never going to say "happy birthday" to me ever again. I know that it's over. In one moment. I sit down and smile, both pleasure and sadness playing with my heart.

He called, the day after the party.

"Hey, Taylor. It's me." His voice sounds choked with haste.

"Hi," I say, making my tone ring with a cold certainty.

"I'm sorry I didn't make it," he continues. Footsteps are heard on my side of the phone as he hurries towards something. "Something came up during the last moment, and I just had to—"

"I'm sorry too," I say coldly and finally.

"Bye," he says uncertainly.

"Bye," I say. I feel a great weight lift off my shoulders as I put my phone down. I pick Meredith up and bury my face in her fur, unsure whether to be happy or sad. I remain in that position for a long time.

Even the most awesome cat in the world can't stand being held against her will for such a long period of time. Meredith wriggles. I let her go.

I still have work to do. I pick up a pen, intending to add the next lines to my song about Meredith. But I stop.

I chew the end of my pen. A line has formed in my head.

"And it was like slow motion," I hum to myself, "standing there in my party dress…"

What rhymes with "dress"? The words bring themselves together…

"In red lipstick…with no one to impress…"

I grab a new piece of paper and scribble the music and the lines down, returning to my song about Meredith. Sometime, the song will surface, and I will put in on one of my albums.

But for now, I am alone.

_The above is based on the works of Taylor Swift. Song lyrics and references included are from "The Moment I Knew_",_ "22", "Teardrops On My Guitar", "Red," and "Last Kiss"._ _Feelings/opinions depicted are only from the author's imagination._

_"The Moment I Knew" is portrayed as a prequel to "22", mainly because of the lines in "22" that state "It's miserable and magical" and "Tonight's the night we forget about the heartbreak", as well as one of the costumes from the music video that includes a white T-shirt saying "There's a lot going on at the moment". The cake and the dress Taylor wears are also from "22". Taylor Swift's boyfriend in this story is Jake Gyllenhaal._


End file.
